


Where You Going?

by Catchclaw



Series: Mental Mimosa [52]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Break Up, Drunkenness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 06:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14928861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw/pseuds/Catchclaw
Summary: How kind of Tony Stark to wait until fucking Christmas to break Bucky’s goddamn heart.





	Where You Going?

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: College/university and Gentleness. Prompts from this [generator](http://bleep0bleep.tumblr.com/prompts).

He didn’t mean to lose his key. He didn’t plan to break his one Solo cup rule and get totally, utterly smashed. He didn’t intend to spill out of the frathouse at three in the morning without his jacket or his sweater, both sacrificed to the gods of a good time inside.

But then, he hadn’t planned on being single that night, either. He hadn’t started the damn day that way; hell, he had a ticket home next week for Christmas with Tony in the aisle seat beside and that’s when he should’ve known something was wrong, wasn’t it? When Tony had agreed to take the aisle. Tony hated the aisle, always demanded the window, even on the campus shuttle, much less on an eight-hour Magic Bus ride.

God, he was so stupid. So fucking blind. There’s no way he should’ve been surprised.

And yet he’d been gobsmacked when Tony had corned him that morning after Practical Matters in Democracy and hustled him down to the benches by the snack machines on the ground floor, the ones that were perpetually full of peanuts and granola bars and bereft of Milky Ways.

“Look,” Tony’d said, his handsome face twisted into something approximating an apology, “I didn’t mean for it happen, Buck.”

Sure. Of course he hadn’t. But what good was a _hadn’t meant to_ when your dick ended up in a hot girl you weren’t dating, huh, a girl you knew your boyfriend already hated, the kind that never stopped trying to one-up you in class. And said dick didn’t dock there only once, no, but--what’d Tony said? Oh yeah: “On and off since, like, August or September.”

How kind of Tony Stark to wait until fucking Christmas to break Bucky’s goddamn heart.

They’d been together since sophomore year, for Christ’s sake, since they’d gotten into an argument in Macro Econ that ended with them making out in a shadowed corner of Baker Hall, panting into each other’s mouth like high schoolers or something until Tony got a hand down Bucky’s pants and made him shoot off right there, where technically anybody could see.

Two and half years. Two and half fucking years. For two and half fucking years, Bucky had looked towards his future and always seen Tony at his side: jobs on the Hill, a place on U Street they could afford, their weekday suits hanging side by side in the closet, a joint subscription to _The Washington Post_. And just like that, all for the want of red hair and great tits, Tony had taking a torch to it all.

Yeah. Maybe he’d known exactly what he was doing when he broke his one Solo cup rule, because he needed it. He fucking needed not to feel anything because that night, he’d stood in the middle of their now-half empty apartment and felt _everything_.

So why not get drunk like a freshman and then, when he couldn’t feel his face anymore, stumble out into the cold? His dumb drunk ass knew the way home. All he had to do was turn his back on campus and walk straight. Count the stoplights and turn left at the fifth one. Easy, right?

“Whoa,” somebody said in front of him, a sudden broad blur. “Where you going, buddy?”

“Home,” Bucky said.

“Ok, good choice. I think that’s smart. But I don’t think the best way to get there is to walk in the middle of street.”

“Huh?”

“I’m gonna touch your elbow,” the blur said. “Is that ok?”

What a dumb fucking question. “‘K.”

A squeeze, a tug, and the blur was moving him, tugging him like a barge towards the shore. Or maybe the sidewalk. Bucky kicked the shore with his shoe. Yep. The sidewalk. Right under a streetlight. Which was both good and bad. Bad because the light made Bucky’s brain ache. Good because the blur became a person, a big, blond one who was still holding on to Bucky’s elbow like he was afraid Bucky couldn’t stand up on his own. Which was stupid. He was fine. A little cold, maybe, and drunk as fuck, but fine. So totally fine.

“I’m fine,” he told the blond guy, squinting. “Fine fine fine.”

“Cool,” the guy said. “Great. Glad to hear it. Let me walk you home, though, or wherever it is you’re headed. Just in case.”


End file.
